


Perdition

by SdSmith



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-05
Updated: 2011-11-05
Packaged: 2017-10-25 17:42:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/273019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SdSmith/pseuds/SdSmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scabior's been waiting for his birdie for a long time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perdition

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to Writcraft for the help and beta! You helped me so much get over my slump with this! *hugs* You're the best!  
> Also, to the girls in Chatzy, who cheered me on when I was ready to scrap this, and the one who came up with my title (even though my memory has made me forget which lovely lady it was.)  
> Written for round 3 over at Daisychain-drab.livejournal.com

His breath burned as it went through his lungs. He knelt down, hands on his knees, trying to recover from his run when he felt a hand grab his upper arm, yanking him back up and dragging him along roughly through the trees. He stumbled and started to fall, but the grip didn't let up, clenching tighter around his arm as his feet slipped, finally finding purchase on the leaf strewn forest floor and pushing off again. Harry could hear Hermione's whimpers as she was handled similarly and Ron's protests before the sharp crack of a hand upon his cheek. They just weren't fast enough; they had run but in the end they failed. The snatchers had caught them and there would be no escape.

Harry felt a twisting sensation in his gut as he was squeezed through a tube and reappeared in a lavish foyer. Harry dropped to his knees, all his energy leaving him as the hand on his arm disappeared. He looked to his side, seeing his friends in similar states while their captors walked up to a figure that had emerged from an entrance on the far wall. Harry squinted to see without his glasses, the blurry form taking on a cohesive shape at last, although it did nothing to relieve his anguish. Bellatrix Lestrange stood before them in all of her insane glory. Harry dropped his head again, thoughts racing furiously through his brain trying to come up with a plan. He heard Hermione cry out and looked up to see her being pulled up by her hair, the mad woman sneering into her face from mere inches away. He struggled to get to his feet to help his friend, but was pushed back down by Ron, who had managed to get beside him somehow. "Shh, you won't help her" came the furious whisper and Harry dropped back to the floor in resignation. Ron was right, if he tried to fight it would only give him away and then all would be lost. The only hope they had was that the stinging hex had distorted his features enough to disguise him from the mad witch that held their fate in her hands.

Harry felt hands grasping his arms again, urging him up none too gently but before he could question it he was face to face with Bellatrix. Her clawed hand dug into his face, turning it this way and that trying to discern his identity. "What's your name?" she hissed into his face.

"Vernon Dudley" Harry replied. He felt her fingernails digging in to his swollen flesh it wouldn't take much more pressure for the tender skin to break. He squirmed trying to loosen her hold, but felt fingers wind their way through his hair to hold him still. Bellatrix pulled back, yelling for her sister, and for her to bring her brat of a son. Draco entered the room nervously, eyes darting around like he was afraid something would jump out at him at any moment. His gait was stilted as he approached them, Bellatrix pulling Harry out and thrusting his face towards Draco. "Tell me, is it him, Draco? You need to be sure; we can't call our lord unless you are one hundred percent sure!" Draco looked into Harry's eyes frightfully, Harry silently trying to plead with him not to reveal his true identity. Draco bit his lip and backed up a few steps.

"It's not him" he said quietly. Bella dropped Harry, having no further use for him and stepped away. "Take him away, Scabior" she said to the man holding him. Harry was dragged off like a rag doll and Apparated into a private cell. The man, Scabior, looked at him thoughtfully. He conjured chains and attached them to Harry's wrists and ankles then stood back to admire his work. Harry could barely move now, the chains were only long enough to allow him to sit or stand, but not much else. Harry looked up at his captor, wondering about the strange look in those deep blue eyes rimmed in kohl.

"I know who you are, Potter. I don't know why Lucius’ damned brat lied for you but make no mistake I know exactly who you are. I've always hoped I would be the one to catch you and now that I have, and did my duty by trying to turn you in, I get to keep you for myself. I'll have to find some way to thank that stupid brat for handing you to me; we're going to have such fun together. I'll be back in a bit, long enough for that stinging hex to wear off, love." With that said the slim man disappeared out of the small cell leaving Harry to his thoughts.

 

Harry sat alone in the dark dank room having nothing but time to worry. He wondered how Ron and Hermione were faring, and hoped they had managed to escape. He was baffled as to why Malfoy had chosen not to reveal him, but was grateful for it since it bought him some time at the very least. He began to inspect his shackles, hoping to find some weakness, but none presented itself. He honestly didn't see a way out and was beginning to panic when Scabior came back.

"Well, well, birdie, it looks like your little friends are very lucky. They managed to escape the manor with some other captives. Unfortunately I can't say the same for you. I've dreamed of this moment for a long time, Harry Potter, and now I finally have you where I want you." He reached down to brush a bit of Harry's hair out of his face but Harry jerked back as he approached.

"Now love, don't be like that, we can do this the easy way, or we can do this the fun way" Scabior leered. Harry's heart began to beat wildly as he realized what the other man intended to do, instinctively pulling back and making himself as small as possible. He felt the other man's hands grasping at his wrists, trying to pull them back, attempting to find a way to loosen Harry's body. When Harry continued to struggle Scabior pulled out his wand and pointed it at the younger man, altering his restraints so his arms and legs were pulled out and Harry was spread eagled in the middle of the room. Another flick of the wand had Harry's clothes removed and he fought not to scream when the cold air hit his skin. Scabior stepped close to his suspended body, running the tip of his wand down his spine. "So I get my fun, then, birdie? I can't wait to see what pretty sounds you'll make."

Harry let out a whimper as he felt the tip of the wand dip between his cheeks and then withdrawn as a hand contacted with his arse sharply. "Like that, birdie? Well that's just a taste." After that Harry was subjected to a blur of magical whips, ones that left razor slices in his flesh, and others that burned with trails of fire. By the time his captor let up he was a mass of bruises and welts, blood running in rivulets over the curves of his body. His head hung limply as the chains supported his weight. He could barely keep conscious and his vision swam any time he managed to crack his eyes open. Scabior stepped in front of him, grasping his face firmly and slamming his mouth against Harry's in a punishing kiss. Harry tried to fight back, to bite down, but the older man had a tight grip on Harry's jaw that allowed him no give at all.

Backing away again, Scabior released his belt buckle and the fastenings of his pants freeing his hard cock from its confines. Harry whimpered as he was faced with the realization of what was coming. Scabior walked around to Harry's backside and forcefully shoved the tip of his wand up his unyielding anus, casting a lubrication spell. "Don't want any friction burns for me at least, do we, love?" With no further notice the wand was removed and replaced with Scabior's cock, pushing in relentlessly and definitely tearing the skin covering the resisting muscles. He thrust harshly, quickly and hard, fingers gripping Harry's hips, fingernails drawing blood as they tore little moon shaped furrows into the sensitive flesh there. Harry couldn't help but scream as he was assaulted, the pain unbearable, and he just wished he could black out and be away from this torture. Scabior's mouth was pressed up against his ear, muttering words Harry wished he could tune out, but his nightmare never seemed to end. "Oh, how tight you are Birdie; you feel so good riding my cock. Do you like that, love? Fuck yeah, you know you want this!"

After the first few minutes Harry began to drift. He tried to think of anything but what was happening to him, anything but the horror. It wasn't long after that he felt his captor's thrusts grow jerkier, less coordinated and he felt the man shudder against his back. The man pulled back, pushing Harry away from him, and abruptly the chains lengthened and Harry dropped into a heap of abused flesh on the floor of the dungeon. The footsteps of the heavy boots rang against the walls and the door banged closed and locked plunging Harry into darkness.

 

Harry didn't know how much time had passed, had it been days or only hours since he had been left in this pit. He still had no clothes and the damp had settled on his skin in a cold chill. The only warmth came from his many wounds which burned with an unnatural fire. He shivered against the cold stone he was pressed against. His wrists and ankles itched and burned from the chafing of his restraints but no matter how he twisted and turned he could find no relief for his pain.

The door creaked open again and Harry scrambled back as far as the chains would allow, but it did no good. The chains began tightening and he felt himself drawn up and exposed again. Every bone in his body hurt and he groaned weakly when the lights came on, burning his eyes. Scabior's rough hand came into contact with his face once more, turning him to allow his mouth to be claimed all over again. Harry was too weak to fight back, he just hung limply, and willed his mind to drift as he was whipped and abused over and over again, fresh marks making paths across his body, crisscrossing every bare patch of flesh. His arse was wide and gaping, blood and semen trailing down his legs. Finally he was released again but he was no longer conscious enough to know it.

 

When he woke again there was a hunk of mouldy bread and a jug of water sitting in front of him and a bucket in the corner that he supposed was for him to relieve himself in, if he could reach it that was. More likely it was just another way to torment and humiliate him. He cried softly at the loss of all he had known, and mentally cried out for anyone to save him.

Weeks passed in the same routine, every so often Scabior would come in and take him again, leaving him alone and unknowing over and over again. Harry had no clue how long had passed and slowly his hope drained away from him. Wounds healed only to be ripped open afresh when his captor came to visit him. It seemed nearly every day brought fresh torture; Scabior took great pleasure in finding ways to draw Harry out of his calm, to break him down and make him scream.

Then all of a sudden there were no more visits. He didn't know how long it had been but his wounds had begun to heal and no new ones came to take their place. Unfortunately, even with no new injuries his body became weaker due to the lack of sustenance and care. He was wasting away and had no clue what was going on in the outside world. He didn't know if anyone even knew where he was or that he existed at all. In fact he was nothing but skin and bones, and didn't think that he had much longer to live when he finally heard a noise.

It was faint at first, but eventually got louder, culminating in a pounding on the cell of his door. He tried to cry out but his throat was so dry that barely any sound left at all. He tried to move towards the door, but the chains were just too heavy anymore. When his rescuers finally made it through the door Harry was breathing heavy, black spots dancing before his eyes from the effort, and as they undid his chains and lifted him to take him to safety he succumbed to oblivion allowing himself to finally have hope that he would be okay.


End file.
